Tuesday, January 31, 2006

how sad

Bazaar in 2 Days!


Certain Muslims have been on the rampage about a series of satirical cartoons published initially in a Danish newspaper, and then in a Norwegian one (see article here).

This is where the West needs to take a stand and say that, yes, we're a pluralistic people, but our very pluralism entails a deep respect for freedom of expression. Tolerance might not be the same as agreement or acceptance, but tolerance-- primarily marked by a forbearance from violence-- is crucial in a pluralistic society. Pluralism doesn't equate to spinelessness: it does indeed contain its own exclusivism, as I've written elsewhere. From the pluralist's point of view, some thoughts, beliefs, and behaviors are unjustifiable.

Religious satire happens, and it's no use screaming about it. From what I recall of living in Europe, Christ gets lampooned daily over there. Some of the most hilarious spoofs of Christianity I've ever seen come from the pen of French cartoonist Claude Serre, and he's not the only European to knock the Savior. That's one of the great things about the West: at our best, we don't take ourselves that seriously. Even the most sacred foundational figures in our culture are fair game. And thank God. I wouldn't have it any other way.

The idea that you cannot even depict Muhammad... sorry, but if Islam hopes to integrate with the West at all (and it's an open question as to how many Muslims seek such integration) that doctrine's going to have to go. Europe, in the meantime, will need to stop making excuses for Muslims who behave childishly in the face of mockery, and start remembering itself. I say that as someone with a deep love of Europe.

By the way... Muhammad has been depicted before. Here's one of the most famous renderings: the Prophet ascending on a mythical beast called a buraq.



(image snitched from here)


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Smells Like Golgotha: Chapter 11

Holy Shit! Bazaar in only 2 Days!
Come on over! Help our students practice their English!
Email me for info. NOW, dammit!










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Monday, January 30, 2006

Ave, Adam!

Bazaar in 3 Days!


Adam Yoshida writes a touching post about the Japanese homeless. Puts me to shame: back when I was a high schooler, the DC/Metro area homeless were my pet cause. Adam's post reminds me of those days. But here and now in Seoul, we've got our own homeless problem. Maybe I should get off my ass and photoblog some of that. Thanks, Adam.


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a dirty slut of infinite ass

A commenter at Skippy's blog, Ford W. Maverick, offers a hilarious rewrite of the famed "Alas, poor Yorick!" soliloquy in Shakespeare's Hamlet, in honor of a recently deceased porn star named Anna Malle (get it? Ani-mal?). Read Skippy's solemn eulogy here. Ford's sprightly verse, however, is reprinted below in full, with what I assume to be Ford's permission.

Alas, poor Anna! I knew her, Skippy: a dirty slut
of infinite ass, of most excellent breasts: she hath
borne men on her back a thousand times; and now, how
adored in my imagination it is! my penis rises at
it. There hung those breasts that I have masturbated to I know
not how oft. Where be your mellons now? your
gazongas? your funbags? your flashes of double-penetration,
that were wont to set the VCR on a roar? Not one
now, to mock your own humping? quite cock-fallen?
Now get us to my bedding chamber, and tell her, let
us fast-forward to the good parts, to this favour she must
come; make her laugh at that.

Compare:

Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow
of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy: he hath
borne me on his back a thousand times; and now, how
abhorred in my imagination it is! my gorge rims at
it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know
not how oft. Where be your gibes now? your
gambols? your songs? your flashes of merriment,
that were wont to set the table on a roar? Not one
now, to mock your own grinning? quite chap-fallen?
Now get you to my lady's chamber, and tell her, let
her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must
come; make her laugh at that.

By the way, Skippy's take on the Oprah Winfrey-James Frey scandal (wherein Oprah publicly castigated Frey for duping her: Frey had claimed his book A Million Little Pieces was a memoir, but it turned out to be mostly contrived) makes for a refreshing contrast to the standard take.


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generating the right kind of friction

Bazaar in 3 Days!


A very long time ago, in the Jurassic Period of the Koreablogosphere, a fantastic blog called Incestuous Amplification made an interesting point about US conservatives' North Korea policy: tough talk, little substance. Like other Koreabloggers, I have enjoyed the current administration's tough talk when it comes to North Korea. I treasure the idea that ol' Jong-il is freaked out by the fact that he's #3 on a short list. Our current focus on #2 of that list, Iran, has got to have the Dear Leader's mental gears turning.

But Kevin of IA's contention in that long-ago post was that the Bush Administration wasn't really doing all that much. Funds going directly to NK might have been cut off, but funds going to SK-- and from there, ultimately to NK-- are still in place.

That IA post gave me pause and showed me the error of my ways. Since that time, I've been hoping for a truly substantive move by the Bush Administration to prove that our NK diplomacy has teeth-- at the very least, weak little Ben Affleck milk teeth, if not out-and-out Matt Damon choppers.

And now... this.

In the news a few days ago came the announcement that the US is drafting an executive order that would apply to financial institutions that do business with both the US and North Korea: Choose. Us or them. If you choose them, you don't do business with us.

...authorities completed a rough draft of an executive order that would stop any financial firms involved in transactions with North Korea from conducting business in the U.S.

That will mean all banks, brokerage houses and insurance firms and refers not only to illegal transactions but to any financial deals with the North, Perl told the Chosun Ilbo on the phone. Once the regulations are finalized, “the message to financial institutions operating in the U.S. will be that the time has come for them to choose between the U.S. or North Korea,” he added.

When I first read this article, I thought this was the stupidest idea yet. Perhaps some of you still think this way. But then I started thinking about the message such a measure was supposed to send to South Korea, which is the United States' seventh-largest trading partner (the US is SK's third-largest trading partner, after China and the EU; a US-Korea free trade agreement is in the works), and which doubtless has plenty of financial institutions on US soil, most likely in places like New York, Chicago, Atlanta, and Los Angeles.

If we assume the executive order makes no special exception for South Korea, this could very well mean that SK will either have to throw its lot in with America, or break certain financial ties with us-- at huge economic cost to both our countries-- so it can stand proudly beside its beloved brother, North Korea.

I have no idea how harshly the executive order is to be worded, nor do I know whether it really will apply directly to South Korea. I also have no clue whether the order is riddled with other exceptions and provisos. If it is, then Kevin of IA's point still stands: big talk, no real action. But if this bill is as frightening as the Chosun Ilbo writers make it out to be, then it's Christmas all over again for yours truly.

Here's the rest of that article:

Observers will be watching closely if the draft takes effect since it is far more sweeping than the sanctions already in place. The U.S. in September pinpointed the Macau-based Banco Delta Asia as Pyongyang’s primary money laundering channel and induced China to close North Korea’s transaction account there, while a presidential decree froze the U.S. assets of 11 North Korean trading firms. In December, Washington issued an advisory warning North Korea would probably seek to take advantage of other foreign banks for its illegal transactions.

But under the draft order, almost all finance companies would be effectively prohibited from doing business with North Korea. That would also affect international financial institutions outside the U.S. and thus deal a heavy blow to North Korea’s overseas trade.

In Perl’s reading, financial institutions would have a choice whether they are with or against the U.S., but given the importance of their U.S. interests, it would in effect force most major international firms to stop dealing with the North.

Given that Pyongyang is already boycotting six-party talks aimed at dismantling its nuclear program over the earlier measures, the plan could be the death knell for the negotiations. The news comes in a week when President Roh Moo-hyun warned of friction between Seoul and Washington if the U.S. tries to solve the North Korea problem by strangling the regime, and is unlikely to improve strained relations between the two allies. It is not wholly unexpected, however, since the White House has several times warned of possible “additional measures” against the North.

I'm happy to see that final sentence in the article: Don't act like you weren't expecting this. No one's patience is infinite.

UPDATE: Great commentary on this situation over at One Free Korea.


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senses

Bazaar in 3 Days! February 2!


The loss of my sense of smell-- now somewhere in its second week-- has forced me to reconsider a common question asked of students in English conversation classes everywhere: "If you had to sacrifice four of your five senses, which one would you want to keep, and why?"

The standard answer for most people is "sight." You can't drive if you can't see, after all; nor can you watch that woman's tight ass bounce by you like three-dimensional quarter notes on their way to a note-orgy. You can't watch movies or TV; you can't surf the Net the normal way. You can't take in a gorgeous panorama like the mountains around the Thunersee and the Brienzersee in Interlaken, Switzerland, or see the rainbow of flowers splashed across a meadow.

Perhaps your other senses can make up for your lack of sight, but there's no denying that sight is something that makes us pay attention to the world.

Two weeks ago, had I been asked that question about which sense to keep, I would have answered "sight" without hesitation, too. But now I'm no longer sure. Smell is essential; smell is primal. We need our sense of smell, and for many reasons.

I'm a smelly guy. Sweaty. Hairy. A guy. I rely on smell as an early warning system:

EMERGENCY-- RETREAT AND APPLY MORE DEODORANT. DATE PREPARING REVERSE PERISTALSIS.

GARBAGE BEYOND RIPE PHASE; APPROACHING CRITICAL. TENTACLE SIGHTED UNDER GARBAGE CAN. DISPOSAL ADVISED.

NEW LIFE SIGNS DETECTED INSIDE PANTS. NOT RESPONDING TO FRIENDLY HAILS. HAVE WEAPON READY.

GIRL WITH TIGHT ASS JUST FARTED. CONSIDER ALTERNATIVE AMOROUS OPTIONS.

CORPSE IN FRIDGE NO LONGER FIT FOR STEAK TARTARE. RECOMMEND BOILING.

It's not just an early warning system, either. I rely on smell to tell me about the weather: Will it rain? Will it snow? Damn, that's a crisp wind! Smell those leaves-- it's finally autumn!

Smell also clues me in on certain things: Yes! The food is done, and not a hint of charcoal! Or: Holy shit, what the hell did I eat yesterday? Fuck!

Being unable to smell and taste the food I cooked for my students last week was a crushing blow. Perhaps I didn't let on just how depressing that was for me, but it was depressing. The olfactory dimension of experience can't be overstated: food is life. Without smell, food-- life-- hardly seems worth the trouble.

The conversation question is somewhat misleading: when you lose your sense of smell, you generally lose your sense of taste, too. This is why mothers pinch their kids' noses to make them down the caustic medicine: if they can't smell it, they're less likely to taste it. While I've heard people claim they can still taste things even after losing their sense of smell, I don't usually believe them. Smell and taste, the olfactory and the gustatory, go together. The claim that one can still taste foods is generally based on sensations unrelated to smell: for example, I can distinguish between fruit juice and wine because wine leaves something of a vapor trail. The moist tissues in my nasopharyngeal area can perceive the vapors without calling up either taste or smell. I'd have a harder time distinguishing between clear apple juice and water. So would you.

Having been without smell and taste this long, I've had to ponder whether it wouldn't be better to be blind. Blindness comes with all sorts of problems, as noted above, but I don't need to see lobster in butter sauce in order to appreciate it. The smell, the taste, the feel-- those are enough. Now, when I eat something, all I've got left is... texture. Taken by itself, texture isn't much. While I'm not absolutely convinced that losing my sight would be better than losing my sense of taste, this unasked-for truncation of my world has been harsh to deal with.

Here's the funny part: I still eat pretty normally. I gain no enjoyment from it, but the removal of smell and taste from my daily life has brought home how awesome the power of habit is. Very illogically, I find myself lumber-waddling to the nearest soda machine to buy a drink barely distinguishable from water. I'd like to think I'm doing this because I'm an optimist: maybe THIS time, my senses will come back and I'll be able to taste what I'm drinking! But in truth, my 500-won coins are being sacrificed to the Aztec drink machine gods because that's the neural pathway I've fortified with ever-thickening myelin sheaths in my brain.

Habit.

Burned into my circuitry.

And that's not so different from the story of Mozart the cat. Our cat lost his eye in a fight at the tender age of one-and-a-half. When we took him to the cat hospital to get the swollen remains of his eye removed, the vet decided Mozart needed a bit of extra work, and removed his balls, too. "Done on both ends!" she announced cheerfully after the terrible deed had been performed. Mozart sulked, his head half-shaven and surrounded by a ridiculous, radar-shaped plastic collar to prevent him from pulling out his new stitches.

Ball-less though he was, however, Mozart had already formed certain prowling and mating habits. The vet warned us as much: the neutering hadn't been to calm Mozart down, but to prevent him from inseminating the neighborhood felines. Mozart, to this day, remains a horny cat, and that's all thanks to habit. Though I retain my balls, I understand Mozart better now. We belong to the same circle of bereavement. The difference is that I'll eventually recover my smell and taste. Mozart, alas, is a eunuch, a freak, a biological "it," forever.

'Tis a strange gift, to be deprived of two senses. On the assumption that every moment is a lesson, I'll continue to blunder through this desolate period of blunted percipience and report whatever insights I discover. But if the clouds suddenly break tomorrow and my senses return to normal, well fuck all that-- I'll be off to Outback Steakhouse to celebrate and we'll speak no more of this.


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Smells Like Golgotha: Chapter 10








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Sunday, January 29, 2006

LUNAR NEW YEAR'S DOUBLE WHAMMY!
Smells Like Golgotha: Chapter 9
plus a special doggie pic!

Last year was "my" year, the Year of the Rooster. Now we're into the Year of the Dog, which as we all know means MORE BOSHIN-T'ANG FOR EVERYONE!

Enjoy the pics:














A Happy Lunar New Year to you all!

Men: May your intrepid ship, the USS Meat, ply the pink ocean and settle in many a berth!

Ladies: May your lush mountains and hidden valleys know the arrival of the Mile-High Conqueror Worm!






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Saturday, January 28, 2006

incoming!

Bazaar in 5 Days!


My blogroll is about to undergo a major expansion as I plan to add the following fine blogs:


1. Sumiyoshi Pilgrim: A very interesting Koreablog with a Japanese name. Features ruminations on East Asia and Marcus Aurelius.

2. Laudator Temporis Acti: A highly literate blog unafraid to plunge into the murky depths of ancient Greek and Latin.

3. Riding Sun: A fantastic, often hilarious Japanblog I've been meaning to slap on the blogroll for some time.

4. One Free Korea: Tirelessly fighting the good fight.

5. Seoul Hero: Shout-out to Nathan for a well-written blog covering matters both personal and cosmic.

6. My Pet Jawa: Not a blog for dedicated lefties. While MPJ leans much farther right than I ever could (I consider myself a moderate on most matters), this blog-- now something of a group blog-- has done some stellar work on behalf of hostages taken by various terrorist groups. I have to respect that sort of dedication.

7. Sperwer's Log: Seems silly to announce the birth (or rebirth) of my friend's blog without actually blogrolling it! Check Sperwer out.

8. Corsair the Rational Pirate: Acerbically antireligious and witty. Also, the guy seems addicted to Korean women's midriffs. In a recent post, he comments on my home state of Virginia, which is now trying to ban gay marriage. I agree with Corsair that this is a fantastically stupid move.


So there we are. That's the list. Eight blogs. Eight tentacles of the octopus. Be patient, folks: the blogrolling won't be immediate, because it takes time to craft my sidebar images. Meantime, Tentacles, welcome to the art gallery.


UPDATE: Two other blogs for the blogroll:

9. Gangwon Notes, a well-written, thoughtful blog with plenty of pictures.

10. WP Cadet, a blog that signifies the triumphant return of DP, who has been accepted into a well-known military academy.


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Smells Like Golgotha: Chapter 8

Bazaar in 5 Days! You're Invited! Email Me for Details!
I Love Capitalization and Exclamation Points!








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Friday, January 27, 2006

no yang without yin

Today, while working at the office, a little miracle: for about five minutes, I could smell and taste again. Not very well, mind you, but the senses recovered just enough for me to perceive-- barely-- the Chinese food I was eating at the time.

Unfortunately, not everything was so good. My chest rattle seems to have worsened a bit, and while I'm still not feeling particularly sick, I do cough... and hack... and rattle like Jacob Marley. I missed my doctor's visit on Wednesday because I went shopping with my students, and I missed a visit today because I was working on something (test rating) that needed to be done by this evening.

The fleeting return of taste and smell at around 5:30PM today was almost exhilarating. In those moments when I was able to perceive my t'ang-bokk-bap properly, I took nothing for granted. The old proverb is true: you don't know what you've got until it's gone.

It's one of those proverbs I relearn with dismaying frequency. Just last week, I had a tiny splinter of something (still no idea what) lodged in the calloused skin of the ball of my right foot. It wasn't large enough to cause extreme pain, but it was large enough to prove annoying. When I got home after a long day at school, I washed my foot, got out the tweezers, and began my search for the splinter. When I finally found it, I almost laughed: the thing was barely two millimeters long, and thin as a hair.

To think that something so small, which hadn't even truly penetrated my skin, could cause such annoyance throughout the day... well, that's a reminder of the narrowness of our margin for comfort. Just a wee nudge rips us out of bliss and plunges us balls-first into the briar patch.

The chest rattle is arguably more annoying than the splinter. But we'll kick its ass next week.


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Smells Like Golgotha: Chapter 7

Bazaar in 6 days!








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Thursday, January 26, 2006

something of a success

Bazaar in 7 Days!


Despite no sense of smell or taste, I was somehow able to make my pita appetizer, quasi-Mediterranean salad, and fettuccine alfredo without a problem. This group of students didn't include any moaners like last time, but reviews of the food were generally good. I made the alfredo in class-- cooking the pasta and making the sauce right there for all to watch. As before, the shrimp was the first thing to disappear. Because this is Korea, people here aren't shy about garlic, so I went ahead and dumped a mess of garlic into the shrimp mix. Some students stuffed themselves well before dessert. For the record, one student felt the alfredo sauce needed salt-- something I've never heard of adding.

The salad-making, appetizer assembly, and shrimp-cooking took me until almost 4AM. I am, as the Brits say, knackered... but the day isn't over yet. Test ratings and personal stuff yet to be done.

Hasta mas tarde, pendejo.

(Oh, yes-- students took pics with their cell phones. I've demanded that they email some of those pics to me. Expect them to appear on the blog at some point.)


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Smells Like Golgotha: Chapter 6

Bazaar in 7 Days!








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Wednesday, January 25, 2006

comments on the day

Back from an afternoon of shopping with a bunch of ladies. We're having a massive cook-in tomorrow, in class; yours truly will be doing the cooking, but I have to get a head start on the business tonight. At the request of students who were with me last semester, the menu will be the same as before (shrimp fettuccine, quasi-Mediterranean salad), but with the addition of the appetizers I'd left out last time-- and I'm doing this insanity for twelve students instead of six. Luckily, no particular dish presents a real challenge in terms of skilfulness required, but some dishes, like the salads, will simply take time.

I met four students and went to Lotte Mart and the Hannam Market. Spent less than I thought I would for twelve people; the students will be covering half the cost of tomorrow's meal-- that's what I promised them. I'd love to cover the entire cost myself, but some of us aren't as rich as others. If you're trying to guess how much I spent this evening, know that the students will be chipping in W7000 each.

The students who were with me also came up to see my digs. My digs aren't in the best shape right now, but I let the students in and they giggled as they looked around at my possessions. "You've got a lot of books!" one remarked. I told them my in-Korea stash was only about a sixth of what I actually own (most of it's in the States). Another student grabbed my made-in-China back scratcher and started scratching her back while cackling. She's one of my favorites, that one. Wacky and uninhibited.

We've got a new concierge adjoshi downstairs, and he asked the girls some paranoid questions as we all walked in my dorm's main door-- "How many are you? How long are you planning to visit?"-- the sort of questions that show he's alert for horndog teachers. My suspicion about his paranoia was confirmed when, as the students were leaving barely ten minutes after visiting, he asked them, "That's all of you, right?" I thought that was funny: the idea that one student might break away from the group and be waiting for me upstairs in my room. Or the idea that the entire crowd was colluding in a plan to let one student stay behind and scrog me.

But there was a close call this evening: my computer and monitor were on, as always, and it was just by chance that, when I nudged the mouse to stop the screen saver, Hairy Chasms was not on display.* That could have been the end of me right there. Not that I've written anything horrible about students and co-workers (the infamous Z, from early last year, wasn't in our group), but the students would have shouted, "You have a blog!?" and I'd have had to strike camp and move the Hairy Chasms elsewhere. They would also have seen Hyori's bloated ass and those lovely crucifixion pics. I have no idea how they'd have reacted to those.

Am gonna have to stop here. Too much to do this evening. I still have no sense of smell or taste... well, that's not entirely true: the only thing I smell is my own snot. Will go out, buy some medicine and a couple other items on my list, then get cracking on appetizers and the salad this evening. One area where I wimped out: I'd thought of doing the Nigella mousse for the students, but Hannam Market wasn't carrying those chocolate chips I'd used last time. So instead, I've opted for something far simpler: Nutella and fruit. Yes, I'm a wuss.

I think I'm going to try to figure out the holy mysteries of ravioli next. And one of these days, I have to learn how to make my own kimbap-- something I've never done before.






*I use a Mozilla Firefox browser, which features tabbed browsing; the blog's tab wasn't the "exposed" one, luckily.


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gotcher J. Lo right here

Bazaar in 8 Days!




In honor of a recent post.





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Smells Like Golgotha: Chapter 5

Bazaar in 8 Days!








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Tuesday, January 24, 2006

Ave, Sperwer!

My friend, the Buddhist badass Sperwer, has made a name for himself as a roving commenter in the Koreablogosphere, able to tackle subjects ranging from Buddhism to gastronomie to law to history to politics.

Keep in mind that this is the guy who gave me-- gave me-- a couple spare disposable contact lenses to help me out when I lost my own lens to an untimely fingernail-ripping. People familiar with Sperwer's comments on other blogs know that he can be... uh, blunt. But as the contact lens gesture shows, it is possible for sentient beings to incarnate that rarest of virtues, caustic compassion.

And now, to everyone's horror, He Has a Blog. This may be a bit like giving Charles Manson a shotgun and a saddlebag full of shells, but it's too late-- the nuclear genie's out of the bottle, as they're saying these days.

Check out Sperwer's Log here, and expect great things.


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tonight's discussion question is...

Do you have to be religious to do theology?

The comments section is open and waiting.

UPDATE: I've seen the comments, and they're all just plain wrong. WRONG, I say!

No, seriously-- I think this could become interesting if you start kicking the topic around with each other. Some stuff to think about:

First, what is theology?

Second, what does it mean to be religious?

Other questions will burble up borborygmically.

My studies in dialogue lead me to believe that shared terminology is key if we're to avoid talking past each other. Sometimes people start off saying things that sound diametrically opposed... but through discussion they discover that they might not have been as far apart as they thought.

My buddy Dave, an aeronautical engineer, probably has it right to think that agreement on core terms is key if people are to get anywhere. In his field, it's an absolute necessity. You can't have five hundred definitions of the word "wave," for instance. Unfortunately, theo/rel is a very different universe of discourse, and it would be harmful to restrict semantic plasticity in my field the way engineers must in their own. Engineers do what they do to make their designs safer, more efficient, etc. That's not the case for those sniffing at the question of ultimate reality. All the same, a little mutual understanding about our personal points of departure can go a long way in a discussion about the Big Things in Life.


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Smells Like Golgotha: Chapter 4

Bazaar in 9 Days!





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Monday, January 23, 2006

I have no taste

I've had no sense of taste since about Odin's Day or Thor's Day of last week. You could stuff a rotten pig uterus into my mouth and I'd chew it down with no problem.

Same goes for smell. I can't smell a thing. It's sad: I miss the scent of my farts. They were a unique olfactory experience-- a cross between septic waste and Muhammad Ali's incoming fist.

I also delighted in the sickly sweet odor of my feet. Pulling them out of shoes made slimy and noisome after a twelve-hour day spent in classrooms and offices, I used to love sitting back in my room as the miasma overwhelmed me, bringing on a light buzz and pleasant visions of eyeless, fanged swamp creatures with lambent claws.

But no more.

No stink can penetrate the mucus plug that now deprives me of my cherished qualia. Perched Jabba-like atop my nerve endings, every possible entryway to my brain blocked, the mucus knows that it rules. And it's not leaving without a fight.

The fight began today. I visited our school's clinic, fully expecting to meet the troll-like woman who'd taken care of my neck before. She wasn't in today, as it turned out, but I got a prescription from the front desk ladies, who again complimented my Korean and charged me only W800 (about 80 cents, US) for several packets of pills and a small bottle of cola-colored cough medicine.

Alas: the mucus hasn't budged, despite two doses of the mystery pills and two swigs of cough syrup. For those who don't know: the Korean pharmacies went under government regulation a few years ago (I don't know exactly when, but it was between 1996 and 2002, during my absence), and all the good medicines-- i.e., the extremely potent, vaguely illegal substances made from wacky plants-- were pulled from the shelves and replaced by... Comtrex. Bayer Aspirin. Tylenol.

The pussification of Korean medicine has made me a very unhappy camper: I remember a mid-90s concoction that knocked one of my ailments flat on its ass. It slunk away, muttering, never to return.

Those were the days. But now... the sun no longer shines in my world, which lies buried under a thick layer of snot and phlegm. Alas for the disappearance of good medicine. This era, sadly, now belongs to the mucus.

I'm supposed to return to the clinic on Wednesday. The troll will be expecting me. If she and her witchcraft prove insufficient, then I'll be off to a real doctor-- the kind who takes one look at your clogged nose, whips out a massive power drill, kicks you in the chest to stun you, then screams, "It's GO TIME!" as he jams that drill bit into your nostril and deep inside your brain.


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Happy Monday!

Bazaar in 10 Days!


I think I'll be doing one of these a day.



Also of note in the wake of the Hwang scandal:

Over two years ago, on New Year's Eve, I wrote this. Yes, it's snotty. But the sarcasm is prophetic.



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Sunday, January 22, 2006

SNU president on the "painful lesson" of Dr. Hwang

Bazaar in 11 days!


Thought I'd pass this along. I saw it on the Seoul National University website (English version). It's the public apology by SNU's president, Chung Un-chan, following the conclusion of the investigation into Dr. Hwang Woo-seok's work:

Fellow Koreans,

Just yesterday the Seoul National University Investigation Committee submitted its Final Report on Professor Woo Suk Hwang's Research Allegations. The Final Report concludes that the research articles published in 2004 and 2005 in the journal Science were both fabricated. It is with a very heavy heart that I stand before you today to express my regrets that Professor Hwang's team at our university carried out such grave misconducts.

As the President of Seoul National University, I feel I owe the Korean people a deep apology for the public confusion and controversy caused by Professor Hwang's research team. The findings of the Investigation Committee make it clear that Professor Hwang's grievous misconduct has dishonored scientific communities in Korea and abroad. I am concerned that his research team has placed a heavy burden on Korean scientists who have been hard at work in their respective research fields. They are likely to come under much greater scrutiny in the future by the global scientific community. But most of all I would like to apologize to the patients whose hopes were raised by stem cell research and whose trust has been betrayed by the recent events.

The falsification of research results is nothing less than a crime in an academic community whose purpose is the pursuit of truth. We need to acknowledge, however, that the responsibility for the events surrounding Professor Hwang's misconduct must be shared.

I speak of the responsibility for exaggerating the contributions of embryonic stem cell research for the purposes of Korean national interest. I speak of the responsibility for evading issues of bioethics in the naming of finding cures for incurable diseases. And I speak of our obsession with producing results without recollecting that the ends do not justify the means.

Honesty and integrity are the fundamentals of science. There can be no science deserving of that name without honesty and integrity. We need to be wary of exaggerated hopes in scientific achievement. No single scientific achievement will single-handedly revive the national economy or cure all illnesses. During the last two years, we ignored this simple truth and wasted valuable resources. It is time now to reflect seriously on the true purpose of scholarship. And it is time for those who engaged in misconduct to take responsibility.

I firmly believe, however, that we must not simply take the recent events as a one-time tragedy. We must make this an opportunity for the biological sciences in Korea to mature and leap forward. One thing we have gained from these events is the experience of locating and correcting our own mistakes. We would not be here today without the courageous intervention of young scientists who braved the furor of the national press in order to challenge the allegations of Professor Hwang. Seoul National University's Investigation Committee amply proved its dedication to, and its ability to uncover, the truth. I thus remain hopeful that the Korean scientific community will not be permanently damaged by these events but will move forward.

Seoul National University, too, will move forward. During the last sixty years, Seoul National University has continued to contribute to Korean society through the pursuit of true scholarship. It will not stop doing so. I will do my utmost to ensure that Seoul National University will continue to serve as a center of learning and truth.

However, we will not forget this painful lesson. I will request the Disciplinary Committee at Seoul National University to take strict action upon all researchers involved in this case. I will reform research policies and establish a Research Ethics Committee in order to ensure that similar fabrications will not happen in the future.

As the President of Seoul National University, I apologize once again for the concerns caused by Professor Hwang's research team. And I earnestly ask you to continue to place trust in our institution so that we can move forward to correct our mistakes and learn from them for a better future. Thank you.

Chung, Un-chan

A quick comment:

I wish I could read this in the original Korean, but one sentence above strikes me as off: They [i.e., Korean scientists] are likely to come under much greater scrutiny in the future by the global scientific community.

"Scrutiny"?

This could be a translation problem. I don't know. In my opinion, scrutiny is never a bad thing. Scientists-- in theory, at least-- pursue truth in an atmosphere of independent verification and mutual constructive critique. Scrutiny isn't bad; outright mistrust is the real problem Korean scientists face.

I liked the president's statement, overall. Plenty of apologies, numerous proposals on how to reform, and very clearly not letting Hwang & Co. off the hook for besmirching the university's (and country's) reputation. A subtle hint, too, that this sort of problem is something we all have to watch out for, which I think is true. Korea has no monopoly on unethical behavior.

By the way, has anyone answered the question of why a veterinarian was so involved in human cloning?


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a second look through the security cam

Charles! What the hell did we eat?



Good God, do I have to add cannibalism to my ever-growing list of sins?


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gracias, merci, danke

Many people have written in either by comments or by email to express sympathy for my current bout of illness. This has included a couple offers of assistance (sending medicine, etc.). Thank you all for your concern. I'll be hitting the clinic on Monday afternoon and doing my best to insist on the most powerful, most expensive remedies to get me back on my hooves, claws, and tentacles again. I appreciate all the goodwill. There are treasures stored up for you in Kevin.

Heaven, I mean.


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the woman of his dreams






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Saturday, January 21, 2006

enuf's enuf

OK, mucus. You win. I'll visit a clinic on Monday.

Prediction of diagnosis: either walking pneumonia or bronchitis. Can't imagine any other reason why the crap would be lingering on this long.

Lungs: you suck and you're fired.


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Rory beats me to it

Rory, stem cells afire, took one look at the crucifixion comic in my previous post and knew what had to be done. He emailed me this:



This could be the new Dinosaur Comics: even more minimalist! And with people contributing their own captions, I don't have to do any work. Brilliant!


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criminality with Liminality

Bazaar in 12 Days!


On Friday evening, I had the great privilege of meeting Charles of Liminality fame.



The stuff that's cooking in the above photo? That's not Charles. In the above photo, Charles is the bib and pair of long-sleeved arms you see across the table from me. The arm to my left belongs to a restaurant worker who took it upon himself to cook our dak-galbi.

Thanks to my sickness, my nose was stuffed and I was unable to taste anything. Charles and I agreed that dak-galbi, which is a spicy chicken and vegetable dish, might have a better chance of breaking through the mucus barrier than the Italian food we'd originally intended to eat. I felt guilty for having diverted Charles from what would probably have been an exquisite meal. On top of not eating Italian food, Charles had the pleasure of watching me fail to deal with my runny nose because I didn't notice the trickle. We really should've gotten a photo of that.

We were in Kangnam, which is always crowded on Friday evenings. After dinner, we managed to find a cafe away from the main street (FYI: my taste buds remained dormant all evening). Charles and I talked while we waited for his wife, Hyun-jin. Charles's Korean is impeccable. Once Hyun-jin arrived, a cruel decision was made to speak only in Korean. I, of course, was unable to keep up my end of the deal, but I gave it a college try.

Below, you see Charles, who looks like White Jesus:



I like the sign outside the window. Not only do we have iMacs and iRivers and iPods-- we've also got iRish!

People who read Charles's blog know that he's a professional translator. Hyun-jin teaches Korean and is learning Japanese. Here's the blushing couple:



Actually, "blushing" is entirely the wrong adjective for both Charles and Hyun-jin. I had thought, based on my reading of Charles's blog, that I'd be meeting someone who was somewhat shy and quiet.

Wrong. The man is a nut.

Charles was easily persuaded to take up a crucifixion pose so we could get a photo of him as White Jesus. Hyun-jin took a shot of us outside the cafe. The Photoshopped result (and soon to be a comic series) is below:



It was a fun evening. While we talked about many interesting things, I'll do as I did for Joel and stay mum about the topics. Charles is free to blog about them on his site, but seeing as he posts only about ONCE A DAMN MONTH, I suspect tonight's meeting will be a fading memory before the man blogs again.

Charles, the invitation to dinner (you and the Missus) remains open. It was great meeting you both Friday evening.


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Friday, January 20, 2006

the new sound

Bazaar in 13 Days!


A new sound burbled out of my chest last night-- a rattle. Not a baby rattle's rattle, mind you-- it was something more along the lines of what I imagine a death rattle would sound like. Pretty cool. I raised an eyebrow and muttered, "Neat!" the first time it happened.

The rattle would occur only at the tail end of a long exhalation-- a gentle but sinister sound. I'd cough deliberately, spit out the mucus (which may come from the rattle's source or from higher up in my chest), then lie back down in bed. Lying on my side seemed to produce the rattle more easily than lying on my back did.

I suspect the best sleeping posture right now would be batlike: hanging upside down to allow my chest to drain out whatever viscous muck has collected inside it.

The rattle makes me think that it might be time to visit a clinic. The last thing I want to do is get a truly nasty respiratory infection and then spread that to students and coworkers.

Meanwhile, I'm frustrated that this damn thing has lasted so long. Perhaps a sign that I should have been exercising more before getting sick...? A robust body usually possesses a robust immune system. In our little office in Room 302, the two teachers who practice martial arts are already getting over their own coughing fits.

More on this later. Or not. Rattle prattle is likely to bore some of you.


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Thursday, January 19, 2006

velvet fisting

Bazaar in 14 Days!


Via Drudge, we learn that France has declared that a nuclear response to terrorist attacks on French soil is not out of the question. "Bravo!" I say. Though I'm not eager for a nuke to go off anywhere, I'm happy to know the French retain enough vigor to make such a statement.

A lot of Americans think the French take their individualisme and valorization of la différence to an absurd degree. These Americans might think that France-- the culturally Western part of it, anyway-- is therefore extremely open, tolerant, and pluralistic.

Fact is, the French like Arab jokes. Here's an old one:

A guy grabs his rifle, drives down to Marseille, gets out of his car, then starts looking around for Arabs. He finds some, and he shoots them down. He finds more in another part of the city; fries them, too.

Pretty soon the police, following the trail of Arab bodies, catch up to him and arrest him.

As he's being pushed into the squad car, he protests. "What the fuck was I doing wrong?"

One of the policemen turns to him and says, "You've got no hunting license, wiseass."

Jokes like that are pretty common in France (and admit it: unless you're Arab, you thought it was funny). They're a decent reflection of what many non-Arab Frenchmen think of the population in their midst. Makes me wonder whether the French declaration was directed just as much inward to domestic elements as outward to foreign-based terrorists and their sponsors.


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baja-hwae

Bazaar in 14 Days!


Our Intensive English classes will once again be hosting a bazaar. This time, it'll be from 10AM to 1PM on February 2, which Americans fondly call Groundhog Day. The location is Smoo's Social Education Building, probably on the first floor, like last time. Events will be about the same as before: people will be selling food and services and used items; my own class will be selling an easy-to-make snack called bbop-gi, which I've never tried before. I'll be doing the bad brush art again, though I won't be selling that shrimp-and-crackers thingamajig. We'll also be doing a silent auction. That ought to be interesting.

Once again, my Aussie colleague trumps everyone with his creativity. Against all odds, he's planning on hosting a "mini disco"-- essentially an itty-bitty closed-in box into which four or five people can go and dance for five-minute intervals. It'll include lights and a disco globe. I think it's a nifty idea, but I have no idea how the Koreans are going to react to it. One teacher pointed out that the mini disco will be happening at the wrong time-- 10AM-- when no one's feeling very disco-ish. "Damn the torpedoes! Full speed ahead!" I say.

You are, of course, invited. I'll be the fat dude in the corner, wheezing over a piece of paper, trying to draw a horse or something. My Aussie colleague is likely to be inside the mini disco, sweatin' away. My other colleagues will be around, selling food and drinks and used items.

All my posts from here on in will feature some sort of reminder about the bazaar. Come one, come all! Just don't come on me.


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kumfert fud

The Nigella-mousse you didn't eat the other day:




The fondue moitié-moitié you didn't have this afternoon and evening:






I made cheese fondue for my coworkers today. The fondue itself was a success (the photos above show what happened to the remaining cheese later in the day), but the event probably could have gone better. One teacher was absent from the proceedings; two others had a lunch engagement and therefore couldn't stay long; one was too sick to appreciate the meal properly; one turned her nose up at the fondue; only one truly enjoyed herself. Your Humble Narrator, being sick as well, could barely taste his own creation, forcing him to rely on the opinions of others regarding the fondue's merits. The ones who tried the fondue gave it a thumbs-up; even the teachers who had to hurry off to lunch engagements hung back to drag some bread through the goop. They made the polite noises of approval; one of them joked, "This is so 70s!"

Baguettes were courtesy the local Paris Baguette, a popular Korean bakery chain. The one teacher who fully enjoyed the experience also brought wine. Too bad I don't drink.

The evening batch of fondue turned out fairly well, and I could taste a bit more of it than I could earlier in the day. I still have a ton of cheese left; will probably melt it down and pour it over some pasta tomorrow or the next day.

My Intensive 2 students, aware that I was cooking for my coworkers today, expressed envy and made long feces-- uh, faces. Because of their heart-melting puppydog stares, we're going to have a "cook-in" next Thursday, similar to (but twice the size of) what I did for my students last semester. They've promised to reimburse me, at least in part, for the ingredients.

So here I sit, stomach replete, typing this post, once again skipping out on the opportunity to see "King Kong." I have a feeling that this week is the final week of its run, but if I have the chance to see it next week, I will.


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Wednesday, January 18, 2006

the elusive ghost of Ahn Ik-tae

I'm still trying to find that musical piece by Ahn Ik-tae (or Ahn Eaktai, or any number of other romanizations), Korea Fantasy, a.k.a. Hanguk Hwan Sang Gok in Korean. A trip today to what I thought would be the Mecca of sheet music, the Seoul Arts Center (Yaesul-ae Jeon-dang), ended in failure. It was my first-ever visit to the center, though, and I was impressed. The grounds have an enormous Opera House, a Music Hall, and other buildings devoted to fine arts-- sculpture, painting, calligraphy, brush art, etc.

My odyssey started over the weekend when I tried to visit Smoo's library to see about the music. It was closed. I went again on Tuesday. The 'brary was open, so I went up to the second-floor information desk. That desk referred me to the fourth-floor (humanities) desk. Humanities, in turn, referred me to the Smoo College of Music (where I'd suspected I was headed all along), Room 205, where they have their own library.

So I crossed our small campus and went to Eum-ak Dae-hak Gwan, 205-ho. There, I discovered that-- YES-- they had the score. Unfortunately, someone had checked it out for the semester. "Try again next semester," I was told with a regretful, customer-service smile.

Dammit. Or "Piss fuck diddle," as my Kiwi buddy John used to say.

I talked to my coworkers about how best to proceed. One coworker suggested the Yaesul-ae Jeon-dang, the Arts Center, so I trundled across town and discovered that even the mightiest beings in the music storehouse pantheon had no scraps of Ahn Ik Tae left for us desperate seekers. One info desk clerk suggested that I try a specialty music store (eum-ak jeon-mun seo-jeom), which is, I suppose, where I'll go tomorrow.

What's most frustrating about this wild goose chase is that the piece itself is pretty damn famous. The music for the Korean national anthem (Aeguk-ga, literally, "love-nation-song"; aeguk by itself means "patriotism") comes from a portion of Ahn's Korea Fantasy. You'd think this would be easy to track down. You'd be wrong.

If anyone out there has any musical connections and thinks they can produce the sheet music for Korea Fantasy, let me know.


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postal scrotum: more about Steyn

Andrew R. (now in Korea!) writes:

Regarding your Steyn essay, here are some thoughts:


1) I personally agree with Steyn's larger point, although a few details are arguable. But his overall picture is pretty accurate. Sure, some of the dates for bad things to happen (you mention "2010," might be off), but not to the degree that I found it distracting. If anything, I hope his dates are all too early...


2) The West gave up reproducing because kids became too expensive. Not just in financial cost, but opportunity cost. A comfortable life can be had without having kids. And in fact, they get in the way of the comfort.

Besides (as the argument goes) it's not like urban folks need someone to manage the farm. So urban folks today have a pressing argument to *not* have kids. I'm not saying it's valid or not, but that's part of the argument.


3) Birth-control. Like it or not, the year 2006 has the West with a lot of promiscuous people. And a guy no longer needs to give a girl a ring to get some action. With the male animal slightly un-tamed sexually, there's little reason for society's higher civilities to come into play. If a man is only about getting a high tail-count, there is no pride to be had in raising worthwhile children.

In fact, the girls run counter to their own best interests by giving it away. For example, if the girl you wanna bang on the 3rd (or 2nd, or 1st) date won't give it up - move on. And most guys are just after new tail anyway. For most men, the domestic lifestyle has to be slowly learned.


4) "Socialism is inevitable." While not a good thing, it is a true thing. The US is moving towards its version of nanny-government ever faster. And if the gov't will take care of you (as the gov't says) kids really are optional. I mean, Social Security will provide for citizens in their old age (or so the gov't says).

The culture of Socialism has overtaken a large amount popular American Government - and due to enough time, American Culture itself. Boston, Mass., home of the American Revolution, has some pretty disturbing nanny-laws in its own right. Details aside, the Founding Fathers would be spinning in their graves.


5) If I haven't done this already, I suggest owning The 4th Turning by Strauss and Howe. My copy is on loan in the states, otherwise I'd send it your way. It outlines rather well (with great research) Western History and why each 4th Generation was inclined to commit/suffer-through acts of social upheaval.

On a side note, the book is an excellent example of a well-researched non-fiction book that is very interesting. The topic is a bit dry, but someone with any bent towards watching the History Channel will really get into it. And it's a surprisingly fast read. (ISBN 0767900464)




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Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Happy Birthday, Dad!

It's that time of year again!

On January 17, 1942, a disturbance rippled through the Force, as if millions of voices suddenly cried out in terror: A dad was born.



And then he met a Korean lady, and not long after, through a process that looked something like this...



...life happened in 1969:



Childhood was no picnic. Dad trained me hard in the ways of the dark side...



Soon, I was able to fight the best of the best:



And then Dad decided to have himself another little Vader in 1976:



...which gave the cat much joy...



...and also impressed the dog:



Dad had himself yet another little Vader in 1979...



And I suppose he decided that that was enough for one lifetime.

Dad's been retired since last June, but he's currently going through a refresher round of paramedic training. Must be that crazy "gotta help people" urge he has.

For having produced such twisted offspring, you'd never guess my father was a great man, but a great man he is.







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what possessed me?

I work with two (UPDATE: make that three) very cute coworkers, but ever since last year's crotchocentric meltdown, I've been cautious about the whole Coworker Thing. On some level I must've realized that there's better grazing elsewhere.

Today... I'm still trying to figure it out... I walked away from a conversation with the very nice teller at my local bank-- a lady I see about twice a month-- with the dawning realization that I'd spent the last five minutes of our conversation (mostly in Korean) flirting with her.

That's a new one on me. My last few relationships (or non-relationships, in some cases) have all been with ladies with whom I'm in close contact, i.e., classmates and coworkers.

Definitely a new one on me.

Shit, I better check if she's married.


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of note

Commenter "Jung" has some interesting remarks about Steyn, orientational pluralism, and my take on Steyn's essay. Check it out in the comments following my post.

Jelly of I Got 2 Shoes has written a fantastic post about religion and religious attitudes. Worth reading twice. Or three times. Float on over and read, you magnificent bastard, READ!


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Monday, January 16, 2006

Bell Curve redux?

Can anyone tell me whether this is for real?

It's relevant to that previous post. You know-- the one you gave up reading.

UPDATE: A friend of mine who actually understands the math had this to say:

The first law seems arbitrary and prejudicial in its nature. It models an "observation" that is questionable at best. The rest seems to flow from that. Personally, I think it's crap. The formulas the guy throws in make some sense in context if you accept his givens. But you decide for yourself if you think the context is proper.

My overall impression is that this is pure crap. But that's just my take.

I think it's bogus math that sounds legit arguing for an agenda.




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das Sein immer "Dasein" ist!!

Like my faux Heidegger?

I'm about to go see "King Kong" this evening, but before I waddle off, I thought my readers would be pleased to know that, after thirty-six years of hard training, my asshole is starting to form words... or at least wordoids.

It's getting better with the articulation and enunciation. Volume was never a problem; my ass is a born shouter. Some of the stuff I've heard my ass say recently:

1. Something along the lines of, "Mmmmbooooooom!" Very jazzy/bluesy.

2. Once it distinctly said, "Herrrrrrrrrrrrr." Yes... she's always in my thoughts, too.

3. Another time, I'm sure I heard, "Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee." An expression of solidarity? Or a French "yes"? Then again, that might have been "Wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeat," which is... altogether different.

4. It took a bit of effort on my part to make this out, but I'm sure my ass once said, "Bar." With something of a rising, questioning intonation. Almost British.

5. A growled "Pert." My ass often rates women. One time it saw a cold bitch and said, "Brrrrrrrrrrr."

6. Definitely a "Yesssssssssss" right before a huge log shot out.

7. Countless numbers of times, some form of the verb "put."

8. I once heard a syllable reminiscent of "Wow." A close cousin of that utterance reminded me of "Far." We might have been staring at distant mountains.

9. My ass said "burp" once.

10. I was confused the day it said "Saw." Was it the participle or the noun?


OK... off to a movie about primates bumpin' uglies. You just know that, somewhere in a New Zealand hideaway, Peter Jackson is wackin' off like a caged spider monkey as the cash rolls in.



UPDATE (2 minutes later): Shit. After weighing the pros and cons, I've decided to stay home. I've got a nasty cough and a headache. My internet service, which was fritzing all weekend, is chugging away again, so perhaps I'll write an entry pondering the lack of comments on my huge essay, below.


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Back to normal

Normal being a relative term where this weblog is concerned. As requested I have restored the old template. Should you have any ideas for NEW templates, please email me at hammergod@hammergod.be. This email address will be good for about 6 months.

Saturday, January 14, 2006

three things

First: A lot of people are talking about Canadian Mark Steyn's essay "It's the Demography, Stupid," which laments the decline of Western civilization. It's worth commenting on, and I hope to do so at length tomorrow. No time today.

Second: If there's anyone out there who knows where I might find the sheet music for Ahn Ik Tae's Korea(n) Fantasy, please email me. My father is looking for this on behalf of a northern Virginia orchestra; he sent the request to me. I wanted to hit Smoo College of Music yesterday, but didn't have the time. Today, the College is closed, and unfortunately, so is our campus library, which rarely seems to be open when I need something from it.

Third: All praise to ME!! Today marks the first time I've ordered pizza from the office (yes, I'm at the office). The Korean pizzeria called Mister Pizza has a central dispatcher number, just like pizza joints in the States. They relay your order to the local branch. What made today's order a bit complicated was that, when I gave them my phone number, they read my address info back to me... and it was my dorm. But I was at the office, not my dorm, so I had to correct their info, just for today. Proud to say that I did so with a minimum of fuss. The lady on the other end was forgiving of my many mistakes and moments of hesitation. It's one thing to develop a routine for ordering food from the local Korean and Chinese joints; quite another for a creature of habit like me to order in a completely new fashion. There's hope for this geezer yet. Those of you who speak Korean fluently might not think this is a big deal, but it's something of a red-letter day for me.


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Saturday blahs

My armpit hairs were especially wilted when I woke up this morning after a night of coughing and hacking. The current sickness is strange: I don't feel particularly bad, but I'm subject to spasms of coughing that sometimes leave me doubled over. It's been this way all week. Every time I cough, it feels as though a blood vessel in my head is about to burst, but aside from that and a persistent tickle deep in my throat, I'm perfectly fine. No fever, nothing. I'm just tired from being kept up all night by my immune system and its attackers. I suppose I should gargle. Eating mok-k'aen-di (sore throat candy/lozenges) isn't really helping.

But it's Saturday-- the sun is bright, there's a lot of shit to do (uh... thanks, Tom), and I need to get a move on.

So! A few quick phlegm haikus in honor of the creatures currently residing in my bronchial tubes:

booger's foul cousin
deep inside my throat you live
creature of the night

every time I cough
I see stars and grab my head
oh-- and then there's phlegm

weird word origins
who the hell would ever put
"phlegm" in "phlegmatic"?

Jesus knew no hate
but I'm sure he had to know
how shitty phlegm is

my coworker's cute
I'm afraid of launching a
phlegm volley at her

so I asked the monk:
"How can I deal with this phlegm?"
"Don't try prayer," he growled

then I had a thought:
using shotgun phlegm patterns
to tell your fortune!

sneezing while naked
very inadvisable:
phlegm in pubic hair


Off to have a day.
Got to get some errands done.
Hope your day goes well.


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Friday, January 13, 2006

yawn

The Drudge Report breathlessly links to an article about a proposal to create human-rabbit hybrid embryos for stem cell research. Some folks are apparently in a tizzy-- many of them from the UK.

I don't think the Brits have any reason to complain, since they've been pumping out human-rabbit hybrids for years. A recent example from "Sexy Beast":







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mousse bis

[NB: "Bis" is a French term for "again, encore, repeat."]

I had an entire plastic container of chocolate chips left over, along with another bag of marshmallows, the rest of my huge slab of butter, and a humongous bottle of artificial vanilla. The only thing I was missing was whipping cream, so I went out and bought some.

Then I made Nigella's chocolate mousse again.

I daresay it came out even better this time around.

No, you can't have any.


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Thursday, January 12, 2006

the hunt for the perfect t'ang-su-yuk



I asked my students where I could find the best damn t'ang-su-yuk (Korean-style sweet/sour pork) in the area, and they recommended a restaurant called Jeong, located fairly close to campus. I went there this evening and tried their specialty: spicy t'ang-su-yuk. It comes laden with sliced hot green chili peppers, and a few red chilis thrown in.

Verdict: at W11,000 for such a modest portion, it wasn't worth the price, but if we drop price considerations and concentrate on quality, then this dish was certainly a step above the normal fare. It wasn't stellar, though; top honors still go to the Chinese restaurant recommended to me long ago by Charlie the KimcheeGI. That resto, called Myeong Hwa Something-or-other (I never could recognize the third hanja in the name), is a ratty little dive, but it serves the best fucking t'ang-su-yuk I've ever had. The batter is lighter and crunchier than normal, and the sauce is lighter and sweeter than what you'd expect. Charlie wasn't bullshitting when he called it the best. The restaurant is popular, too: almost always crowded, and you're probably going to have to wait a few minutes outside before they give you a seat. People don't go there for the atmosphere (the place is run by large, sweaty, East German-looking adjummas, and the ambience screams "hole in the wall"); they're there for the eats.

So: Jeong scores-- somewhat-- on quality, but not overall value. Myeong Hwa Something-or-other is still the place to beat, and its t'ang-su-yuk is better than Jeong's.


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hey, Lorianne!

I wonder what the Zen Mama, a self-described "place" blogger, would think of this fascinating view of cyberspace.

(link courtesy the equally fascinating Gypsy Scholar)


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Wednesday, January 11, 2006

portrait of the Hominid as a not-so-young man

Advanced Global Personality Test Results
Extraversion |||||||||| 36%
Stability |||||||||||||||||||| 83%
Orderliness |||||||||||||||| 66%
Accommodation |||||||||||| 43%
Interdependence |||||| 23%
Intellectual |||||||||||||||||||| 83%
Mystical |||| 16%
Artistic |||||||||||||||| 70%
Religious |||||||||||||| 56%
Hedonism || 10%
Materialism |||||| 30%
Narcissism |||||| 23%
Adventurousness |||||| 30%
Work ethic |||||||||| 36%
Self absorbed |||||||||||| 43%
Conflict seeking |||||||||| 36%
Need to dominate |||| 16%
Romantic |||||||||||||| 56%
Avoidant |||||||||||| 50%
Anti-authority |||||||||| 36%
Wealth || 10%
Dependency |||||| 23%
Change averse |||||| 30%
Cautiousness |||||||||||||| 56%
Individuality |||||||||| 36%
Sexuality |||||||||||| 50%
Peter pan complex || 10%
Physical security |||||||||||||||| 63%
Physical Fitness || 10%
Histrionic || 10%
Paranoia |||||| 30%
Vanity |||||||||||| 50%
Hypersensitivity |||||| 23%
Female cliche |||| 16%
Take Free Advanced Global Personality Test
personality tests by similarminds.com




(Pssssst: I'm pretty sure this test was designed for women. Read my scores with that in mind.)


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groping the issue of sexual harassment

My Smoo Freshman English students-- they're high seniors, you'll recall-- and I have been talking about sexual harassment over the past couple days, and it's been interesting to see how they react to various issues. On the whole, they seem to skew toward almost the same range of opinions as American women regarding what constitutes sexual harassment, but they display some of the same contradictions when the hypothetical male sexual harasser is replaced with a handsome movie star: suddenly, all those suggestive come-ons and lingering stares are OK.

Things that are a no-no to my girls (in an office/school environment):

1. A man's hand on the woman's shoulder for more than a few seconds.
2. Sexual banter in public areas.
3. Sexual rumormongering.
4. Staring.

There seemed to be some disagreement over whether personal questions about being single crossed the line, and I assume this is cultural, insofar as Koreans often ask personal questions in order to determine how best to address each other. Some students were made nervous by questions like "Are you single?" and "Do you have a boyfriend?"; others thought it was harmless.

The students said that staring was a problem. But as soon as I asked them whether it was all right for the Korean heartthrob Weon Bin (pronounced almost like "one bean," but with tighter vowels) to replace me as a teacher and start leering at them, most of the girls found such leering perfectly permissible.

My students felt that Korean women had made progress in society, on the whole, but none of them felt that women in Korea were equal to men-- not by a long shot. Assessments of the situation were neither overly optimistic nor overly pessimistic. Interestingly, the students felt that Confucianism was not a relic of the past, but something that needed to be altered to reflect the changing times. Personally, I agree: Korean society wouldn't be able to withstand a sudden, sweeping democratization at the level of social attitudes and mores.

Metrosexuality was consciously acknowledged. Heterosexual men who wear makeup are just fine with my students, as long as they're not wearing too much. But while the students had no trouble with the idea of a man who cries during a sad movie, they had a lot of trouble with the idea of a young boy who plays with Barbie dolls. Whether this reflects an undercurrent of feminine homophobia, I couldn't say. It's true that Korean women are, on the whole, less comfortable about gay men than American women are. Homosexuality is still a queasy topic in Korea.

I asked my advanced freshman students whether it was even possible to talk about the differences between the sexes, given how careful we apparently need to be with our language and behavior. Of twenty-one students in that class, only one said it was impossible. The other twenty, to their credit, thought we should all take a more relaxed, less uptight attitude toward each other. After all, as one of my advanced students noted, how can workplace romances happen without things like staring and touching, right?

To get a sense of how these classes went, you have to understand two things: first, my teaching style is very extraverted, and I tend to act out what I'm saying to give lower-level students a clearer idea of the content of my speech. Second, Korean girls, when in a group, tend to react en masse. Therefore, when I asked the girls whether it was all right for a man to stare, I gave them my best Kubrick-style, "from under the brow ridge" look (à la Malcolm McDowell in "A Clockwork Orange") to show them what I meant. They recoiled in theatrical revulsion with equally theatrical cries of disgust. That was fun-- as well as being free confirmation that I'm an ugly bastard.

Smoo is a school known for producing a fair number of feminist thinkers. If the current crop of incoming freshmen is any indication, we may have a few more such thinkers graduating in four years. Me-- as I've said before, I'm a Camille Paglia feminist: biological differences matter, but this shouldn't stand in the way of continued female empowerment. I don't yet know whether Korean women have stepped into the post-feminist era (something only tentatively felt even in America, I think), but I imagine they'll be along shortly. That'll be the day: the day the Korean ladies drop all pretense at demureness and crack dick jokes the way we guys crack camel toe jokes.


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Tuesday, January 10, 2006

return fire!

Take this, Nomad! You fire dogs at me, and I respond with this, the latest off Yahoo News: CYCLOPS KITTY! Bow down before the freak!







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Ave, Nomad!

The Lost Nomad, perhaps in response to the pussification of my blog, launches a volley of dog.

I'm taking this pic with me for safe keeping... probably to be used later for some twisted purpose:



They say Koreans eat dog. Well... I'll give this "eat" a try:

One leg over one ear... one leg over the other ear...





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Ave, Jeff!

In case you've missed it, Dear Reader, Jeff of Ruminations in Korea has put out his second major audioblog, and it's as good as the first. If Jeff isn't careful, this could turn into a real gig and crowd out his law practice. I'd be tempted to try audioblogging myself, but I don't have Jeff's scintillating personality.


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Monday, January 09, 2006

Visualization


(Hello Titty)


Regarding your previous post ...

Why Frosty the Snowman Does Not Fit
the Messianic/Heroic Paradigm

In the annals of religious literature, Frosty the Snowman appears in only one major sutra, which says this about him:

Frosty the Snowman
Was a jolly, happy soul
With a corncob pipe and a button nose
And two eyes made out of coal

Frosty the Snowman
Is a fairy tale, they say
He was made of snow,
But the children know
How he came to life one day

There must have been some magic
In that old silk hat they found—
For when they placed it on his head,
He began to dance around

Frosty the Snowman
Was alive as he could be
And the children say
He could laugh and play
Just the same as you and me

Frosty the Snowman
Knew the sun was hot that day
So he said let's run
And we'll have some fun
Now before I melt away

Down to the village
With a broomstick in his hand
Running here and there all around the square
Saying catch me if you can

He led them down the streets of town
Right to the traffic cop,
And he only paused a moment when
He heard him holler, "Stop!"

Frosty the Snowman
Had to hurry on his way,
But he waved goodbye,
Saying don't you cry:
I'll be back again some day

Thumpity thump-thump
Thumpity thump-thump
Look at Frosty go
Thumpity thump-thump
Thumpity thump-thump
Over the hills of snow

This sutra has led certain scholars to conclude—falsely—that the writers of the scripture attributed a sort of benevolent divinity to Frosty, but this is decidedly not the case, and in this essay I propose to examine why.

It is tempting to conclude that Frosty is something of a Christ figure. First, the sutra details his affinity for children, a trait many traditionally associate with Jesus (although with little convincing scriptural evidence aside from "Suffer the little children to come unto me" and "You must become as a child"). Second, Frosty's promise to return sounds suspiciously like the notion of the Second Coming. Third, there's the powerful fourth stanza:

Frosty the Snowman
Was alive as he could be
And the children say
He could laugh and play
Just the same as you and me

This stanza, much like the post-resurrection narratives in the gospels (the ones in which Jesus is portrayed as literally corporeal), would seem to tie Frosty in with some sort of incarnational theology or Hindu avatara—Frosty is a being who becomes enfleshed, in a manner of speaking, dwelling among us, full of grace and truth, and playing with the children.

The very notion of play harks back to the Hindu concept of lila, or divine/cosmic play as epitomized in such episodes as the dice game in the Mahabharata. But a later stanza mentions Frosty's urgency at the prospect of melting, and this would seem to suggest that the anthropomorphic Frosty is a class of being more like the golem of Jewish legend than anything approaching avatara.

The most suspicious thing about the sutra is that it offers us no reason for Frosty's arrival in our midst. In all cases where a great cosmic being appears—Jesus, Krsna, the Buddha—the reason given for the appearance is that the kosmos (Gk. "order") has slid, or begun to slide, into chaos. Dharma has collapsed into adharma. In the Bhagavad Gita, the warrior Arjuna discovers that his charioteer is none other than God (in this case, Krsna), and God has come to restore the cosmic order. Arjuna must play his part in that order, and this is what Krsna argues for about sixteen chapters in the Gita. The Buddha's arrival also has a purpose: the saving of all sentient beings from the adharma of suffering (Skt. dukkha). The Buddha locates the roots of suffering in our ignorance about the nature of reality and offers a therapeutic praxis (the p'al-jeong-do, or Eight Correct Ways—the Fourth Noble Truth) that leads out of suffering. The Christ's mission is nothing less than the redemption of humanity, the saving of us all from sin and death. In each case, then, the savior figure offers succor or guidance out of adharma/chaos and back into dharma/kosmos. The scriptures make clear the purpose of the divinity's presence.

Frosty, by contrast, offers nothing so grand as the redemption of the world. His arrival signals no clear redemptive mission. In fact, the snow-being appears quite selfish. He plays with the children and allows them to forget their everyday cares, even to the point of encouraging them to frolic in traffic—significantly, stopping only when the designated authority loudly reminds Frosty of the established law (dharma).

If anything, Frosty's selfishness, his lack of anything to offer humanity, and his ominous promise to return (viz. "Thumpity thump-thump/Thumpity thump-thump"— a dark reference to the fell drumbeat of the unseen cthonian horrors that inhabit the underworld, snatching the unwary and iniquitous) are more demonic than angelic. Far from being an entity that returns the universe to order, Frosty would appear to be an instrument of the chaotic powers.

And consider this: Frosty the Snowman is white as a bleached bone, or so the sutra implies. White symbolizes many things—purity and joy among them, but it should also be noted that white symbolizes death: the shroud, the winding sheet, the bloodless corpse. The fact that Frosty is visible only to children is also cause for parents to shudder, for this is a trait Frosty shares with other sinister beasts like The Monster in the Closet and The Thing Under the Bed.

I would therefore submit that the sutra devoted to Frosty was originally intended as a magical incantation to make Frosty disappear. We might be looking at an excerpt from an exorcism ritual. If it is true that Frosty's only purpose is to appear in the wintertime to tempt children away from their parents and have them (the children) risk death in traffic, it is highly likely that Frosty's reason for doing so is to gain access to the children's life-essence. How else can one explain Frosty's reappearance, year after year, despite the intervening seasons of spring, summer, and fall? What sustains an entity like Frosty from March to November?

The soundest theory would seem to be that Frosty, who is more vampire than mere snowman, feeds on the children's life-essence and then becomes dormant for most of the year, only to return to prey upon the living each successive winter. The sutra, then, would first serve a social function: it would keep the children together and safe in the winter, singing indoors instead of wandering about outside where Frosty's seductive whisper might hypnotize them, and it would act magically against Frosty by reducing his image to something comical. It would also serve as a ward against Frosty, or possibly even as a means of driving him from a village or valley.

In any event, the sutra offers no evidence that Frosty the Snowman is a heroic or messianic figure of any sort. He fails to follow the Campbellian monomyth paradigm: there is no hero's call to adventure, no threshold guardian, no wisdom figure, no journey into the belly of the beast or into a labyrinth, and Frosty brings no boon back to his people—in fact, it is unclear just who Frosty's "people" might be. Further, Frosty is no messiah, for he also fails to make even the most modest efforts at redeeming humanity; to the contrary, he threatens the lives of children after tempting them away from their parents, very likely with an eye toward dining upon their poor, helpless souls. The Frosty sutra itself, then, should not be read literally, but should be read, rather, as a sort of spell or mantra that performs a warding or exorcistic function against the ravenous snow-creature.

Frosty the Snowman, far from being on a par with the likes of the Buddha or the Christ or Krsna, arises from the depths of hell to eat souls and then sleep for the remainder of the year. While not a major figure in any divine cosmology, Frosty is something of a minor demonic being, and the sutra with which we are all familiar offers us the only true protection against him and his ilk.




NB: Some pop-culture theorists take a completely different stance and claim that Frosty the Snowman is actually a symbol for cocaine. There might still be a demonic tie-in, however.


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Sunday, January 08, 2006

mousse: day 2

Onward to the second cup of mousse!



A few interesting things to note about the above photo:

1. The template my buddy Tam Gu Ja (and his wife) put together is visible on the monitor above. Note the pink Hello Kitty background, which depicts Hello Kitty in both Demure and Compromising Positions. Note also the pink blog post title.

2. Shit, the monitor and lamp are dusty as hell!

3. The mousse, having sat all night in the fridge, isn't plagued with sweat anymore. Very strangie.

4. There's something surreal about blogging an image of a blog post with images.

5. The coffee mug, left, has a logo of my previous place of employment: EC. Hey, guys! I've got a string of eight 3-day weekends! Ooooooh, I'm a bastard.

Moussically speaking, the mousse was just as good on the second day. The consistency is about the same, maybe a wee bit firmer since the mousse had all night to chill. The top layer of this cup of mousse had some bubble action going on, but it was only the top layer, not the whole thing through and through. Next time, I'll take my friend's advice and fit the plastic wrap directly on the mousse... though I do worry about what'll happen the moment I try to remove the plastic.

In all: yum. As I said before, this dessert is definitely worth making for guests. And the "no eggs" approach means no salmonella to worry about.



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The Emperor's New Look

[Kevin's UPDATE 1: The following post was written by my buddy Tam Gu Ja. He and his wife made a hilarious Hello Kitty template and applied it to my blog. The template vanished, however, when I edited his entry and republished. I'm hoping TGJ has the template stashed somewhere safe to reapply to the blog. It was pretty damn funny. I've sent TGJ an email about the new template's disappearance, so there's a chance we'll get to see it again.]

[Kevin's UPDATE 2: All seems to be in order. Hello Kitty reigns. And may God have mercy on us all.]


Once upon a time, long ago, I was burning the long night away reading things on the Internet, as I sometimes am known to do. On this fateful night, I learned of my long-time friend Kev's love for a small, Japanese pussy. Shortly thereafter, the otherwise bright and rational Kev engaged in a rare and remarkable lack of good judgment. He gave me access to his weblog. Foolish mortal! You have failed to consider the consequences of such an action. Welcome to your new Blogger template!

Since we have been delighted with foodblogging, it is only fitting to reveal (or remind you of) the existence of Hello Kitty sushi!



Finally, for those women out there that want to catch a bit o' that kitty vibe, I have bad news. The Sanrio Hello Kitty Vibrator is apparently no longer made. Though this is apparently a novelty product and not a top-performer in the field, at least one Hello Kitty fan was, well, pleased with the vibrator, saying that

With patience and tender, loving care, Hello Kitty will bring sunshine, happiness and wave after wave of pleasure to your life. -by Janet Choi, Sweet and Sour Editor August 25, 2003 + Denver, CO



postal scrotum: cooling your mousse properly

A good suggestion came in the mail for avoiding the pitfalls of sweaty glasses:

Quick suggestion for cooling your next batch of super rich egg-less mousse...

Allow the mousse to cool for a few minutes - basically till it stops steaming. Then put the plastic wrap directly on the surface of the mousse and run it up the interior sides of the glass and over the rim. Then put the mousse into the fridge.

By putting the plastic wrap on directly on the surface of the mousse you prevent steam from escaping into the air. That steam causes nasty condensation inside the cup/glass. Which then runs down onto your mousse and makes it yucky... Additionally, by putting the wrap on the surface of the mousse, you will prevent that nasty rubbery film layer from forming on the top of the mousse. And lastly, by keeping that moisture in the mousse you might actually improve your chances of getting the bubbles that you were looking for.

Of course, you can always add bubbles to your mousse by resting the cooling cups on a woman's back as you sodomize her.

ahem...

I love blogging.


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